She Walks the Line. Roz Fox Denny
Читать онлайн книгу.
narrow hips. When had she noticed his well-shaped hands? More to the point, why would she notice—especially since he stood next to what had to be the courier’s body now zipped into a body bag and tagged for delivery to the morgue?
Shaking off an edgy feeling Mei dragged in a lungful of fishy air. Shoulders back, she strode straight up to the man who’d requested her presence.
She knew two of the detectives, having been introduced to them by Risa. Mei didn’t expect to see Risa here, as she worked sex crimes, but the departments’ cases too often overlapped. Mei flopped open her holder and flashed her shiny new lieutenant’s shield. Archer grasped her elbow and pulled her aside, into a circle of light cast by an overhead dock flood that had just come on.
He extracted a plastic sleeve holding a photo and a second one displaying a handwritten note on thick, badly creased paper. “I hope you can see these well enough. The detective in charge wants them preserved to dust for prints at the crime lab. Let’s hope they find some. I told him there were none on the last set. This fellow is dressed almost identically to the previous courier. Dark, loose-fitting Mandarin-style shirt and pajama-like pants. As well as these items, his belly band contained a modest amount of cash, so if he carried the actual artifact, his killer obviously wasn’t interested in the cash. Oh, and he had the stub of a bus ticket to Houston.”
“From where?”
“Seattle.”
“Hmm. Not a place he’d attract attention, given their vast Asian community.” Mei studied the photo for a few seconds. “The earthenware vase is from the tomb of Lou Rui, unearthed in Shanxi province. So it isn’t part of the same collection as the warrior being peddled by the first courier.”
“No, but both are on a list of objects that disappeared from a government-operated Beijing museum several months ago. No one can or will say exactly when.”
“No,” she murmured. “That’s not the Chinese way.” Mei didn’t need to be told that both would be priceless to a serious collector, however. Or to a dealer—like her father. With dread forming in her stomach, she slid the picture under the letter and began reading aloud, until Archer’s cell rang. Not only did she deduce it was Catherine on the line, but following his side of the conversation, she realized he wanted her assignment extended so she could help with this case.
“Thanks, Chief,” he was saying. “Lieutenant Ling’s ties to Houston’s Asian neighborhood may be of value to me in unraveling this puzzle. I took the liberty of inviting her here to see this latest victim firsthand. Would you like a word with her?”
Mei reached for the phone with a less than steady hand. “This is Mei Lu, Chief. Yes. Yes.” She sighed. “No. I’m fine. It does make sense. Oh—but if I’m to be assigned to Mr. Archer starting tonight, you’ll need to notify Captain Murdock.” She listened while a weary-sounding Catherine told her to consider the captain informed. Mei barely acknowledged the chief’s standard closing statement to take care and to keep her updated.
Cullen accepted the phone she shut and handed back. “You don’t seem pleased with this assignment, Lieutenant.”
“It’s been a tiring day. In any event,” she added briskly, “this note could be a carbon copy of the one you have in your home file. Except that this courier’s name is Jung Lee.” Mei passed him both plastic sleeves. “I could hardly help overhearing what you said to Chief Tanner. Really, Mr. Archer, I don’t know what ties you think I have to Houston’s Asian community. I assure you they’re far fewer than you seem to believe.”
“I don’t know, Lieutenant. For starters, there’s your knowledge in this field. You’ve obviously been well-trained.”
Mei recoiled visibly, automatically clenching her hands at her sides. Was it her imagination or had Archer worn a faintly suggestive smile? “As you say, sir,” she said levelly, “I’ve studied Chinese history and Dynasty art. If this is all you need from me tonight, I’ve got a long drive home.”
“Certainly. Let’s meet at my office tomorrow morning. Say, seven sharp? I like getting a jump on the day. And I promise to make you a pot of tea that holds more than one cup,” he said, showing he’d remembered her parting shot at their last meeting. “Come ready to help me work out an investigative plan. We’ll follow that with a visit to your father’s gallery. His expertise may exceed yours.”
Mei gave a short nod, then excused herself to return to her car. By the time she coaxed the cantankerous Toyota into starting, she saw that her nemesis had been swallowed by the evening fog setting in over the harbor.
As she drove off, she couldn’t help wondering about one question in particular. Did Archer have an ulterior motive for suggesting they visit her father?
CHAPTER THREE
MEI LU RETAINED just enough of her traditional Chinese up-bringing to feel shame mixed with her worry over Cullen’s subtle implication that Ling Limited and her father might somehow be involved in this smuggling case. Saving face wasn’t merely a passing fancy in her culture, but something ingrained in children from birth. While it was true that her father was far more westernized than his wife, in some ways he was wholly Chinese. Daughters had no right to be involved in the interrogation of a parent.
Foo whined and snuggled his head against her as she drove home. He was perceptive enough to know when his mistress was upset.
“Sometimes I wish you could talk,” she said, reaching down to rub his ears at a stoplight. “By the very nature of Ling Limited’s dealings, it’s reasonable that Archer might consider it a gallery of interest.”
The dog emitted a little bark, licking her hand before she eased her car from behind the vehicle stopped in front of her. Mei felt foolish confiding her concerns to a dog. For a fleeting moment, as she approached an exit that would take her to a street near Risa’s, Mei considered swinging by to ask her advice. Risa had street savvy and access to information on Houston’s criminal underbelly. Her friends on the force worked a cross section of undercover assignments. As part of her job, Risa dealt with snitches and could probably fill her in…. Mei hesitated for many reasons, including the fact that she no longer felt comfortable just dropping in now that Risa was living with Grady.
Mei was sure of one thing: smuggling rings didn’t appear overnight. Especially rings attempting to peddle the items she’d seen in those photographs found on the dead couriers. Illegal exportation of national treasures and artifacts carried hefty fines and stiff jail terms. Early Dynasty pieces ranked right up there with ivory, or trying to peddle endangered wild animals, either alive or for pelts. This was serious business.
When she’d worked at the Hong Kong firm, a clerk had been approached to find a buyer for a rare ivory hairpin topped by an intricate solid-gold phoenix set with ruby eyes. Ling’s dedicated clerk had detained the man after she’d pressed a hidden buzzer connected directly to the local police department. They came at once and hauled the would-be seller off to jail.
Mei later found out the poor man legitimately owned the piece. Or rather, his great-grandmother did. The old woman had fallen ill and he, like a dutiful grandson, had been sent to secure money to pay for her care.
The woman died while authorities fought over whether the government had the right to confiscate her property without restitution of any sort because the item was deemed a national treasure. Mei and her clerk felt horrible, and so sorry for the family. Stephen, who’d been away at the time, said Mei had handled the man incorrectly. Her brother told her next time to buy the piece to put in his private collection. He bought estate pieces in China’s rural areas and insisted that if word of her actions got out, it’d cause good citizens to be angry at the government—and to feel leery of working with gallery buyers in the future.
But her dad had personally trained the clerk. Mei was positive he’d never approve of the way Stephen chose to ignore the rules. She hadn’t discussed the incident with her father, yet it remained an issue between her and Stephen.
A second question nagged her as she drove past the ramp that